Places we won't walk...(TW)

Aizawa-Sensei and Bakugo Katsuki (Pt.2)

Aizawa waits as Bakugou spills Junior High life. His emotions are conflicted and he's heavily aware of the gaze that Bakugou holds on his hands. His hands won't move, like chains that buckle them down to the floor. He feels like he's in a lucid dream, everything's so heavy and no matter how many times he flexes his hands it's literally impossible to lift anything to comfort his hurt student.

He's dead weight, useless, as Bakugou lets out his worries, his pain, just lets it tumble out of him like it was a closet stuffed with clothes. He's left on the floor, by his desk. Not stunned, no definitely not, but left with emotions that aren't his, that are hard to comprehend for a 16 year old, because after all the hurt and pain. Bakugou's here, sitting, crying, spilling his emotions for the friend that he disowned.

He tells stories of the two of them. Sleepovers, stealing candy on halloween and eating it on his bed. The mini wedding they had and the special drawing Izuku gave him on his birthday. The All Might merch that coated his closet and the pictures that he had under his bed in the dorms. He tells of the reason they fought that night and how naive he must've been because he didn't see how Deku was hurting.

Izuku Midoriya, Bakugou Katsuki's friend, long life supporter, been through the toughest shit that would have hit Katsuki way harder, blown him away, if not for the green headed teen Bakugo would be an emotional wreck. A ball of anger and fury and sadness mixed into one thing. A lost cause. He was an impeccable support that Bakugou tried to foolishly push away. And now that the greenette isn't following him around and mimicking his every movement. Bakugou's at a loss. Lost in the void of his emotions, wanting the same relationship and more that he had with Izuku. The words once again get stuck in his mouth and Aizawa realizes he hasn't been breathing since Bakugou sat down.

He's not stupid, of course he's not. He's seen Midoriya, the flinches, the pure fear in his eyes when things get too loud or a particular teacher walks up to him, how his voice wavers when he's asked a question, how he lingers to the back of the class when they're walking. The wary glances he gives to all of the teachers including All Might and how he seems to work twice as hard for no reason. Not just in Heroics, but in English and Math and he excels in almost everything, his grades are through the roof and if Aizawa wasn't just a Pro Hero he'd think that Izuku was just a workaholic. But the pure fear in Izuku's eyes says it all.  It had to have a starting point.

"It started in...in preschool" not that far back "Izuku had gotten back—from the quirk doctor, 'a month after I'd gotten mine. Almost everyone had gotten their quirk. I had a- some followers of my own- Yea we'll call em that....and I, the caretakers, the teachers, they encouraged and boosted, and complemented everything about
me. 'An now that I look back on it, they were too biased, they said things that were probably...a little bit..not okay? and I was just...y'know...it went to my head-" He rubs his sweaty palms along his pants and he gulps, the knot in his throat and the whole in his stomach isn't lifting but part of him knows that when he gets this off of his shoulders he'll feel better, so he continues, his voice cracking and reaching his peak, he heaved a breath and softly sighs.

Aizawa comes over, softly, cautiously, a hand over him, his back. It hovers before he makes his final decision and softly, he reassures Bakugou. Rubbing his calloused hand over Bakugou's back, he's not the best, but he's trying. He hopes it's working. He hopes the comfort he's giving is enough (Deep down he knows it'll never be enough, not for anyone, not for him.)

"I-I," he sighs again. "It started out verbally, the insults...I wanted everyone to think I was cool, I wanted to be the one that everyone worshipped, not the worshipper. I didn't notice that I was the whole school, that I was the norm, something everyone followed, and I was so selfish, I wanted more. To do more." He looks at his hands as if they were the worst creation on earth, like Aizawas, the where calloused and held there own small battle scars.

"Do you know what that feels like Aizawa-Sensei?" and here Aizawa wants to say yes, he does, he really really does, but his mouth doesn't open, doesn't condone the lie that he'd willingly let tumble out of his mouth. It doesn't happen.

"I didn't have to stick out." Tears pool as his voice breaks and he looks up at Aizawa, a look on his face that he can't quite place "I read the last part of Izuku's name as Deku. Defenseless Izuku. Deku. And he asked me, why are you being so mean...I-I didn't say anything, I ignored that question because 11 year old me was stupid. I left him in a playground by himself with a kid I didn't even know after I beat him up. That fight, the house arrest, I dragged Izuku out there, I asked why he was getting stronger. I was hurt, broken, jealous." It sounds like he has to wrenches that word out of his mouth, his breath hitches again. "I don't understand, that's not how emotions are supposed to work." And oh does Aizawa cringe at that because emotions work in any way. They're crazy and make you feel things that your brain can't comprehend.

Sometimes Aizawa has trouble figuring out their illusions. They throw you for a loop and send you on a wild goose chase for answers nobody has the questions too. They make you feel alone and make you act out like you've never done before. And sometimes it makes you look back on life, your choices, the way you handled things, and you look at yourself, and think, Why? They leave you in the dust and trample over you and come back for you and bash you in the head only to come back and patch your wounds up so you can walk again.

They hurt and make you feel like you're the worst at the most horrible of times. Make you judgemental when you don't want to be and it's like you can't stop this world of a rollercoaster. Sometimes you want changes that you can't make and it hurts. Nobody has their shit together, something always loose and that's what gets everybody. It's emotionally exhausting dealing with your own emotions and you realize you're avoiding them with other people's problems. Hiding behind a curtain and hoping, praying that they don't drag you back so you can deal with your own problems because it's so much easier.

——

I write my stories in docs before posting them on here and I feel like I have a right to say I almost had a whole mental breakdown shebang because I pressed cut instead of copy so..